Exhibition
by Kell-D
Summary: So many faces…shocked faces, but only one stood out. Long salt and pepper hair pulled back into one thick braid, a beautiful, angelic face. Unohana Retsu. She finally came. Kisuke was right. Starrk x Kisuke x Renji


**Here's another one. You know I love my wierd pairings. This one was supposed to be Renji/Unohana, but that worked out not at all. Guess i'll try again later.**

**Those of you waiting on me to update SWSS, I know i'm being ridiculously slow but writing Ichigo is SOOOOOOO hard for me. HA *spoiler*. Anywho, believe me, i'm working on it.**

**As always, Beta'd by Mishiko Shinsei and I own nothing.**

**-o0o-**

There she was, her long black braid barely grazing the waist of her pants. I checked my watch. She walked by the window of the studio around the same time every weekday. My eyes followed her until she was well out of sight. Something in her sad yet peaceful expression had captured me the first time I saw her. She was a walking portrait.

"You're dripping."

The amused voice drew my attention. With a curse I quickly tossed the brush back in the paint can, ignoring the snickering pair on the other side of the room.

"You know you can always just talk to her. She looks nice, and she's not married." Silver eyes danced with pleasure at my suffering.

"How the hell do you know that?"

"He always knows," offered the narcoleptic man sprawled on the floor staring at the ceiling.

The studio was Urahara's. It wasn't a real studio it was an old garage that he'd gutted and…well that was pretty much it. Now, instead of oil, paint stained the cement floor.

I'd met Urahara Kisuke my second year of art school. The blond was in his last year of the graduate program. He was an artist who'd put paint on anything that stayed still long enough. Needless to say he was responsible for numerous graffiti jobs around the city. Despite being unapologetically weird or "eccentric" as art students often called it, the man was undeniably brilliant.

Then there was Starrk. I still hadn't figured him out. Sleep was his crack and he'd been addicted for as long as I'd known him. How he'd managed to pass a single class, much less graduate, was beyond me. For the few minutes a day that he managed to be lucid he was usually elbow deep in clay, but recently his interest had shifted to stone and wood. He was old school that way.

How an architecture student like me had gotten involved with these two wackos I'd never know, but the three of us had been practically inseparable since I had. They were good friends…usually. Now though…

I snatched off the smock I was wearing and tossed it on the desk, the only piece of furniture in the whole place besides two folding chairs and a futon in the back corner, usually only utilized by Starrk.

"I'm heading back," I announced, grabbing up my bag and heading to the door. "And you don't always know." I gave the painter a quick, but pointed look before closing the door behind me, not giving either of them a chance to reply.

The pervert was usually right where women were concerned. I could never figure out why, but chicks loved him and he loved them right back. Though recently, his attention seemed to have turned to our clay loving partner. Flavor of the month I suppose. Women loved Starrk too, but the sculptor cared for little beyond his naps and his work.

-o0o-

"Unohana Retsu." Kisuke announced as soon as I pushed the door to the studio shut behind me.

"What?"

"That's her name," the blond informed. "She's quite a bit older than you, but that's never stopped me. She still wears her wedding band, but she's not married. A widow." He grinned, thoroughly pleased with himself. "She's a tiny thing. I told her to stop by anytime. Turns out she's a major art lover. Imagine that."

It took my brain a minute to catch up to the man's ramblings, but when it did I was just barely able to stop myself from throwing my box of tools at his smirking face.

Starrk, who was topless and partly covered in wood shavings, just shook his head.

"You did _not_ do what I think you did." I finally responded. Why was I surprised?

"He did," our lazy friend confirmed. "She seems nice," he shrugged. His attempt at consolation.

"She's way out of your league, but she'll come. I have a feeling."

The glare I shot Kisuke didn't even faze him. "She won't."

He just smiled and went back to his canvas. Starrk's back. Time passed quickly as we worked in a comfortable silence. Despite the fact that I was more than pissed about what the blond idiot had done, it was virtually impossible to stay mad at Urahara for longer than a few minutes. It had been tested and proven. Besides, I seriously doubted she would ever come.

"I'm starving," Starrk announced with his lazy drawl.

I glanced up for the first time in hours, wiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. Kisuke was warning his canvas not to destroy his masterpiece.

"How am I supposed to go get food without clothes on?"

"I'll get it," the blond waved him off. He slipped on his flip flops and moved with purpose towards the door. "Want something?" He looked to me, hand on the door.

"Whatever," I shrugged.

"Hunger level?"

"Eight."

He nodded and left.

I stood to pull down the shades then got back to work, thinking nothing of the odd stare Starrk was giving me from across the room.

"Kisuke wants to have a threesome."

My head rose slowly…cautiously. My eyes darted about the room in confusion. "What?"

Though I was the only other person in the room, I wasn't entirely sure if the sculptor was speaking to me. I mean Starrk was never one for small talk. For the most part, he was an _only spoke when spoken to kind of guy_.

"Kisuke," he said again. "He wants to have a threesome."

I stared blankly as he blew some shavings from the wood figure before him. "Well…thanks for sharing." I didn't know what he expected me to say, but that seemed to be enough. He said a quick "you're welcome" then got back to work. Kisuke's weirdness must have been rubbing off on him. Why he would think I gave five fucks about their sex life was beyond me.

-o0o-

Two weeks later Unohana Retsu still hadn't come by. I knew she was way out of my league, but that didn't stop me from secretly hoping she would.

"I'll see you later Kis."

I glanced up from my sketch and couldn't help but laugh a little. The raven-haired, one-armed, potty-mouthed beauty shot me a wink. "Later, bitches." The door slammed behind her. New month, new flavor. Kisuke was never one to discriminate.

"Don't you just love her?" the blond chuckled.

"She's amusing," Starrk agreed.

I checked my watch and stared out the window, knowing it was still too early.

"I have an announcement to make." Urahara stood from his easel with a clap of his hands.

"Nobody cares," I sighed, quickly blocking the pen he threw at me with my sketch book.

"I sold my first painting," he paused to grin. "For the staggering figure of…wait for it…fifty bucks."

Starrk rolled over, putting his back to the painter. "We'll never have to work again."

Kisuke ignored him. "Maybe I'll have an exhibition."

I could almost hear the wheels in his overworked brain pick up speed.

"Let's go celebrate. My treat," he grinned. The magic words had been spoken. Both me and the lazy bum were on our feet in seconds. "Gluttonous bastards," Urahara teased, leading the way out the door.

-o0o-

We stumbled back into the studio just as the sun was setting. I'd forgotten how much Kisuke could drink…and how he was more skilled in the art of persuasion than he was at painting. Needless to say, I'd gone well over what I knew was my limit.

Not a second after I heard the door shut, Starrk, who'd been the only thing keeping me up, shrugged my arm off his shoulder and dropped his from around my waist. I hit the floor hard.

I groaned, rolling over onto my back with the intention of thanking the goatee wearing bastard for being such a great friend. There was a bump and a splash. I groaned as my arm landed in blue paint. "Shit!" My dear friends, however, couldn't have been less concerned. The two were engaged in one of the most heated lip-locks I'd ever seen. One of Urahara's hands was lost in the sculptor's shoulder-length chocolate locks, while the other efficiently unfastened the man's pants.

"Get a room," I said with a slow, drunken roll of my eyes. Of course I was ignored.

I sighed with the intention of getting up...with the intention of grabbing my shit, stumbling back to campus and passing out on my incredibly uncomfortable bed, not giving the two lechers, or the spilled paint, a second thought.

"For the intention to become reality, energy has to be launched into operation." My math professor used to say that all the time, but I never knew how right he was until that moment.

I lay there, on the floor, unable to turn away as they broke the kiss to allow Kisuke to relieve Starrk of his shirt. My eyes moved sluggishly to the window. The shades were still up. I suddenly felt exposed as if I, not Starrk, was the one well on the way to being completely nude. I pushed up on my elbows only for the room to start spinning violently. Damn Kisuke and his love of tequila. I laid back and stared at the ceiling a bit, and then back to the pair before me.

They were both topless now. Their kiss was slow…sensual...mesmerizing. One of the blond genius' hands had disappeared into Starrk's pants. The only part of me that seemed capable of moving was my dick. Despite my every wish to the contrary, it grew harder by the minute.

I closed my eyes only to have them pop immediately back open, seemingly of their own volition. The brunette let out what sounded almost like a growl. I couldn't help, but wonder how good whatever Kisuke was doing was to get that kind of reaction from the usually unemotional man.

The painter caught the sculptor's lip between his teeth and smiled. Not his usual dorky looking smile. This was the smile of a man who knew, whether you did or not, that within minutes you would be screaming his name.

Suddenly, I realized what all those women saw in him.

"Enjoying the show, Red?"

My eyes widened at the blond's use of the nickname he knew I hated, and hadn't called me since we'd met. Only then did I realize that my hand had found its way into my sweats and around my rock hard member. I snatched it out only to have my cock further betray me by perfectly tenting my pants.

Kisuke didn't bother hiding his amusement. I think I even saw Starrk smirk. I turned the other way like a pouting kid.

After being quite thoroughly humiliated I thought they'd go on about their business. Not the case. The painter moved toward me, leading the brunette by his junk, absently eying the river of blue beside me. My heart beat in my throat. I was paralyzed with fear, or maybe excitement. Kisuke knelt down beside me and my breath hitched. It was fear. I swallowed hard, unsure of what he would do…and what I would do when he did it.

He turned back to Starrk, whose manhood he still held hostage, freed him from his pants and swallowed him completely.

An "Oh, shit!" escaped my mouth before I could stop it. Starrk's intense, powder-blue eyes closed and his head fell back in bliss.

Urahara worked the narcoleptic sculptor better than any woman I'd ever seen. Saliva dripped to the floor and slurping sounds filled the room. The blond's rhythm was all his own, but the brunette seemed to know it well. A large hand moved to rest gently on the back of the silver-eyed painter's head.

My dick was begging for attention that I had no intention of giving it. However, Kisuke apparently did, he seemed to move in slow motion toward me. I willed my body to move, but before I knew it I was in his hand. I whined like a bitch…a manly one, but still a bitch.

He pulled his head back, and Starrk slipped from his mouth eliciting a growl of frustration from the standing man.

"Come on, Red." The blond tugged on my painfully hard member and of course for him, my body obeyed…as much as it could at least. I made it to my knees before the impatient bastard grabbed my hand and started walking. I fell back to the floor. He proceeded to drag me through the spilled liquid, painting the floor a brilliant shade of blue. Of course he and Starrk made sure to carefully step over the mess.

His destination was the futon, which was scarcely large enough for one person, but decidedly better than the hard cement floor. My back and ass were soaked. My hair too probably. Before I could complain, Kisuke's lips were on mine. Starrk kneeled to help him get me out of my wet clothes. Everything was moving too fast. Saying "no" or "stop", crossed my mind, but it never got further than that. Between the alcohol, that was only about half to blame, Kisuke, who seemed to know how to do everything just right, and Starrk, who was suddenly the sexiest thing I'd ever seen, I just couldn't bring myself to utter the words.

My hands moved on their own, touching everything they could. Kisuke…Starrk…it didn't matter. I just wanted to feel them.

Starrk seemed more interested in Kisuke than anything else. That changed once I sat up and took his cock that still glistened with Urahara's spit into my mouth. He stood with a barely audible grunt, pulling me to my knees. The last time I sucked a dick was never so I gagged every few seconds. He didn't seem to mind. Off to the side, a small smile splayed on the blond's face as he watched me clumsily devour the sculptor. He reached down to stroke himself. It made me harder…Starrk too.

Kisuke smirked, no doubt knowing the effect he was having on us. His silver eyes moved between me and the brunette. Strong fingers dug painfully into my hair, simultaneously popping the rubber band that held the red mess out of the way and pulling my gaze from the painter's more than distracting ministrations.

I gagged on the rigid member that was rammed viciously into my throat. The next thing I knew Urahara's cock was bobbing temptingly beside my face. Starrk had snatched the blonde up, obviously discontent with just watching. His hand abandoned my head in favor of Kisuke's. Their lips smashed together above me. I took the opportunity. My free hand wrapped quickly around the blond's erection as I slid Starrk out of my mouth. I paid them equal attention, moving my tongue from one to the other.

Starrk pushed away first, gasping for air. A sound escaped the eccentric artist's mouth, but the brunette wasn't in the mood for talking. His hand landed on Kisuke's shoulder, forcing him to the ground beside me causing his cock to slip from my grasp. The genius smiled, first up at Starrk, then to me. My dick jumped, and then his tongue was forcing its way into my mouth again. I wanted it and he knew it. Seconds later the hovering cock-blocker parted us when he slid his momentarily forgotten manhood between our lips.

I glared up at him even as he placed a hand on both our heads and proceeded to pump himself steadily between our mouths. God he was like a puppy…had to be the center of attention, which was odd since normally he tried his hardest to be in the background. Saliva dripped from my chin and nose. Paint dripped from my hair down my back. My now aching erection throbbed in my tightly clenched fist. Kisuke staring at me from the other side of the veiny barrier didn't help. Starrk pumped faster. My lips were going numb.

He finally came and my tongue shot out to taste him before I could stop myself.

"Shit," he grunted, falling to one knee, and then surprising me by gently lapping at my lips before gently sucking the bottom one into his mouth. His skilled hands massaged my head making my eyes flutter closed. He pulled me in closer, deepening the kiss. It was different from the one I shared with Kisuke. With the blond it almost seemed like a game. He was demanding, fiery, made you feel like you would explode.

The brunette, on the other hand, made me want to melt. His was the kind of kiss that said "I love you", whether it was meant or not. It sent a dangerous tingle through me.

A body pressed up behind me. I hadn't realized the painter had moved. My hair was swept to the side and chaste kisses were planted on my neck.

'_Kisuke wants to have a threesome.'_

Starrk's declaration from the other day came to mind. I hadn't realized he was talking about with me. I smirked into the sculptor's mouth, but froze when I felt fingers prodding at my backside.

"Relax," they said simultaneously and then Kisuke's fingers were pressing their way pass the tight ring of muscle. It felt like shit. It felt like I was _going_ to shit. Starrk's skilled hand's and passionate kisses were no longer enough. I focused on the not quite painful, but very uncomfortable movement of the now wiggling digits. My eyes squeezed closed. He was stretching me. It probably wouldn't be enough.

Starrk reached between us, grabbing me firmly in his smooth hand, and began stroking me steadily. I wished it was his mouth.

As if I'd spoken aloud, my wish was almost instantly granted.

"Fuck." I swore as soft warmth engulfed my cock. I'd been so deprived I almost came on the spot.

I was suddenly pushed forward. I leaned partially onto Starrk's back, savoring the slow swirl of his tongue. Kisuke pulled his fingers from my ass. I breathed a sigh of relief that became strangled once I felt something much larger than fingers preparing to enter me.

He slid in just as the brunette swallowed me to the hilt. It was timed too perfectly to not be practiced. I screamed out in pain and ecstasy. My toes curled and I came so hard that my head immediately started to throb. I was mildly aware of the absence of Starrk and his mouth, but in my present state was neither interested nor physically capable of confirming it. My mind went blank. The blonde slammed into me again. My eyes shot open. Instead of a smooth muscular back, my fingers dug into the cold hard cement floor. A moment later when Kisuke's head found its way to my back and some rather colorful language danced passed my ears, I found out where the brunette had gone.

Urahara grunted, sucking in a chocked breath as Starrk entered him from behind.

He pulled back, eliciting a groan from the sculptor, and slammed into me again. Our cries sang a chorus of bliss.

"Be still," I heard Starrk growl.

"I can't." The blond rammed into me again, hitting a spot that made my arms weak. They trembled a moment before giving out on me completely. My face hit the floor. Kisuke's weight made the impact greater, but thankfully I was at least halfway on the futon. "I got it." A hand was placed on my back, another in my hair that was now everywhere. He stroked again, hitting that same spot. My eyes rolled back into my head. I propped up onto my elbows in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure from my chest.

His body jerked and then went stiff. I could actually feel his cock throbbing inside of me. "Don't move!" Came Starrk's voice again sounding more strained than before.

"Move!" I cut him off, desperately wanting Urahara to hit that spot again…constantly…for the next five hours.

A pair of hands gripped my hips. Starrk's hands. I glanced back over my shoulder, but could see nothing but my own blue and red locks. He pulled me back onto the blond's stiff rod.

I screamed, "Fuck!"

Kisuke yelled, "Shit!"

And Starrk commanded us to "Shut the fuck up." as he attempted to set a steady rhythm for us. He pulled and pushed on my waist, taking control away from the now tortured man between us. I couldn't imagine how it must have felt to fuck someone while being fucked. Mind blowing I guess, because Kisuke barely said a coherent word from that moment on. He pulled on my hair, cursed and scratched my back hard enough to draw blood.

The sculptor slammed into him and he, in turn, slammed into me, hitting that ball of nerves inside me every time. It was a wonderfully vicious cycle.

My release was close, I could feel it. Then the painter pulled out. I whined, unconcerned with how needy I must have sounded.

"Turn over."

I heard the words, but my brain was mush. I didn't move. He flipped me himself. In one swift movement I was on my back and my legs were on his shoulders. Intense, hazy, silver eyes stared down at me. I made note of the position Starrk took behind him and how strong his legs must have been to squat like that, but then Urahara was inside of me again. This time the suddenly very vocal brunette set a breakneck pace. I came almost immediately, screaming out Kisuke's name as I did. White streaked my stomach, but they didn't stop. My ass was throbbing, but somehow it still felt so damn good.

Starrk's baby blue eyes bored into mine. I turned away, towards the large front window. The large front window that still had the shades up.

So many faces…shocked faces, but only one stood out. Long salt and pepper hair pulled back into one thick braid, a beautiful, angelic face. Unohana Retsu. She came. Kisuke was right.

Sweat dripped from the blond's brow and landed on my cheek. I turned back to him, my eyes moving from his face to Starrk's, and back. He hit that spot again and laid on it. My back arched off the floor. The genius dropped my legs as his body began to quake. He spent himself inside me, pulling me in for a surprisingly loving kiss. Starrk continued to drill into him. I felt every stroke. My toes started to tingle. I let my head fall to the side. She was still there, her dainty hand pressed lightly on the glass, lips slightly parted. The crowd was growing. I closed my eyes. I was going to cum again. Starrk growled. My body convulsed.

We yelled the blond's name at practically the same time. On my chest, I felt his lips curl into a smile.

**-o0o-**

**Let me know what ya think. Im interested. **

**P.S. I've had a couple PM's asking me about my wedding. Yes it did happen. There are a few pictures up on my Instagram so if you wanna go there and look feel free. _Reddz_Kocoa_ is the name. Oh and if any of you guys will be at Katsucon next week and want to get wasteyface with me shoot me a message. LOL**


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